The Don and His Russian Bride

Epilogue

With the darkness behind my eyelids, I took several cautious steps forward. "Are we almost there yet?"

"Almost," Luc promised.

When he told me he had a surprise for me this morning, I didn't expect him to place his hand over my eyes and direct me through the house. Not being able to see in front of me as I walked made me nervous. Even if I did trust Luc to keep me from running into something or tripping, the feeling of disorientation was uncomfortable.

As far as the Martelli family goes, they still considered Luc to be dead. While I had run off, Luc assured me they had no reason to go after me just as they would leave his mother and sisters alone. Without Martelli blood, none of us were threats to Cesare. The only thing he concerned himself with was being in a position of power, which Luc's family and I couldn't take away from him if Luc was no longer alive.

Though it was safe enough for Luc's family to stay in Genoa, he and I had to leave Italy. We couldn't risk Cesare or his men stumbling upon us there. Cesare wouldn't be looking far, so we stayed out of his range by putting the Atlantic ocean between us.

"I didn't realize how big this house was," I commented as Luc continued to weave me around the hallways.

The house we purchased was built in a city several miles inland from the coastline of Connecticut. Though I had my reservations about moving to the United States, Luc convinced me we would be safe to live here. Our house was in fact way smaller than the mansion back in Sicily, but it was still a recently renovated house with two stories. We bought it because it had the perfect amount of room for a family.

"Patience, Sra. Benza," Luc teased. When we left Italy, it also became apparent we would have to change our last name. Luc chose Benza, which was his mother's maiden name. Because he didn't grow up with his father, it had also been his name his entire life before he was taken to lead the Martelli family.

"I believe it's 'Mrs' here."

Luc made a shushing noise. "Ok stop right here for a second. Don't open your eyes yet." He lowered his hand from my eyes, but I kept them closed. There was a pause as if he was making sure I followed his instructions. Then, I could hear the slight creaking of a door being opened.

Luc took hold of my hands and led me inside of the room. The scent of freshly coated paint almost knocked me back. The fumes were strong as if he had finished painting just yesterday.

"Open your eyes."

At first sight, I realized Luc had led me into our nursery room. My hands let go of Luc's to rest on my swollen belly. My eyes roamed around the sky blue walls.

"You're really confident this baby is a boy, aren't you?" At six months pregnant, we had the opportunity to find out the gender of our baby, but chose to keep it a surprise.

"My family has a history of sons being the firstborn."

"But what if it's a girl?"

Luc shrugged. "Girls can't like blue?"

I chuckled. The color of the room made no difference to me as I couldn't be happier that Luc was willing to make preparations for the baby. I loved seeing him excited to become a father.

With a couple steps farther into the room, I found that the walls were not the only thing he had done. On the far side of the room, stood the crib. It wasn't one bought from the store and pieced together though. It was crafted and carved in a way I had only seen Luc do.

I moved closer to observe the crib. The rails were sturdy and at the right height for me to reach into it to grab our son or daughter. The slats that were upright to hold the child in had little engravings of shapes and swirls along the outer side.  I ran my fingers over the grooves in the wood. There weren't any sharp edges that could hurt our baby. Already, Luc was so protective over him or her, thinking of everything he could to keep our baby safe.

"This is beautiful, Luc."

"Thanks, love. I've been working on it between shifts."

Shortly after we arrived in America, Luc found a job with a company that built houses. Some days he came home complaining about the demands of the job, but mostly he enjoyed his work. For him, building was a way to make a difference in people's lives.

While I had considered seeking a job in sales, I wanted to stay home with the baby until he or she was old enough. It wasn't necessary for me to work as Luc had transferred money to a bank account when he was planning his death. It wasn't enough for anyone to notice it was missing, but it was plenty to get us started with our house and our new life.

The only other thing Luc had held onto before faking his demise was the jewelry box he had gifted me. It sits proudly on my dresser in the bedroom, though the diamond necklace is resting in a safe.

"You're the best," I told him. Tears brimmed at the corner of my eyes.

"Please, don't cry." His hands came up to my cheeks so his thumbs could wipe away any tears that escaped.

"I can't help it. It's the pregnancy hormones."

He chuckled. "Yes, I know. It's one of the few things I don't look forward to about getting you pregnant again."

"Again?" I jerked my head back. "Can we get through the first one before we start talking about having more?"

"Ok," he surrendered. Then he leaned down and whispered, "You're going to be an excellent mother."

"You're going to be the most amazing father. And this," I twisted his wedding ring that I had given him after the funeral, "Never comes off again. Understood?"

"Understood. I'm never going anywhere without you again. It's me and you against the world forever." He sealed his promise with a gracious kiss that had me melting in his arms.

We broke away from the kiss as the baby kicked from inside my stomach. Luciano went to his knees and gave my belly a small kiss as well. Looking down at him, I could see the future we had been dreaming of since we fell in love. Our marriage hadn't started off as the perfect fairytale, but we were stronger because of it and I wouldn't change a single thing about our story.